


I'll Take a Spaceship And Try and Go And Find You

by SlarStarsFanFics



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Abusive Parents, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Body Dysmorphic Disorder, Body Dysphoria, Brotherly Bonding, Depression, Diego Hargreeves is Bad at Feelings, Diego Has The Mouth of A Sailor, Feelings, Gen, Good Sibling Diego Hargreeves, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Isolation, Luther Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Luther is A Huge Nerd, Luther’s Moon Plant, Mental Health Issues, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Poet!Luther Hargreeves, Reginald Hargreeves' A+ Parenting, Self-Esteem Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:14:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23608156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlarStarsFanFics/pseuds/SlarStarsFanFics
Summary: An envelope inside a package had something with the potential to give Diego teasing rights for the rest of time. Something that would crush his brother’s fragile ego if revealed. The perfect blackmail.‘A Poem About A Star’
Relationships: Diego Hargreeves & Luther Hargreeves
Comments: 7
Kudos: 132





	I'll Take a Spaceship And Try and Go And Find You

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from I Won’t Hurt You by The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band. I heard it in Isle Of Dogs and I fell in love. 
> 
> In episode one, there is a package by Luther’s moon bed that says “To: Dad / From: Luther  
> Contents: New poem inspired by comet. Reminder: PLEASE SEND MORE FOOD!” So yeah, Luther is canonically a poet. And Reginald is awful.
> 
> I did my best to keep Diego in character, but I’m still trying to get the hang of it, so don’t judge me toooo harshly pls... I try to imagine dialogue in the character’s voices, and if it sounds wrong I cut it. 
> 
> HEED THE TAGS!!!!

Diego wasn’t snooping. Sure, he had literally pulled up floorboards. Sure, he pulled out a fuck ton of the packages that his brother had sent home from the moon over a course of four years. Sure, he was ripping them open and searching the contents. But he wasn’t snooping. He was just… curious.

_Moon rocks… moon rocks… brown-nosing letters… moon rocks… aw fuck._

Diego pulled out a package that had a _very_ concerning message scrawled out in all caps on the front.

_‘PLEASE SEND MORE FOOD!!’_

_Well shit…_

It’s easy enough to write off. Maybe the moon gave you a bigger appetite, heck if he knew. But something about the urgency in the writing gave him pause. If that old man hadn’t given the big guy enough food, then- Nope. It’s better to write it off.

Diego kept searching until finally… 

_JACKPOT!_

An envelope inside a package had something with the potential to give Diego teasing rights for the rest of time. Something that would crush his brother’s fragile ego if revealed. The perfect blackmail. 

‘ _A Poem About A Star’_

Luther Hargreeves had written fucking poetry on the moon! Poetry! And with a fucking cheesy name like that. This was bound to be good. Diego ripped open the envelope and pulled out the contents. He scanned the paper with fervour and a wicked grin. But as he read the poem, the excited light burnt out of his eyes and his smile fell. 

_What the fuck?_

The writing took the Milky Way and stirred in isolation and bitterness like cocoa powder into stove-heated milk. Diego felt the amusement melt into both concern and pride. He didn’t know that Luther could write things this good, albeit worrying. 

_I thought Vanya was the writer._ He thought bitterly. 

Diego carefully folded the paper at the creases and put it back into the envelope, trying to push back the guilt that was trying to drown him despite his secondary powers. Luther had been struggling, and he wasn’t there. A small part of him screamed that he had no obligation to be there, that Luther had gone of his own volition, but that didn’t alleviate it. It didn’t change the fact that his brother had needed someone, but had no one.

Diego forced himself to open more packages and read more of the poems and prose. With every slip of paper, the usually meticulous handwriting got sloppier and sloppier, and the subject matter got darker and darker. The hope that had been lightly brushed over the older poems like watered-down whitewash fell away, leaving the dark underbelly in the spotlight. One of the writings he came across wasn’t even a poem, just a short ramble, but it stopped Diego’s heart from where it had been pounding behind his ribs.

_Family is hard. It’s harder when they won’t stop yelling at you. The voices don’t stop, won’t stop, can’t stop. My brothers want me dead. My sisters want my head. I don't want to disappoint them._

He forced himself to move on.

Eventually, Diego had gotten through all of the packages, each one repackaged to look just like it had before Diego’s curiosity ripped them apart. He was unaware of the red hot tear streaks that burned their way down his cheeks. Hours had passed and the sun had set. The panel thumped as it was pushed back into place. Diego didn’t know why he bothered trying to cover his tracks, it’s not like Luther had stepped into this room since realizing what was hidden under the floorboards. 

He stood on his unsteady legs, both from lack of use and the shock he was in. He sighed and rubbed his eyes, then pinched the bridge of his nose. 

_Guess it’s time for one of our family’s famous heart-to-hearts._

* * *

  
Luther pulled a sweater over his shirt. He suddenly recalled something that Five had said. 

_”Luther thinks that he's fooling everyone with that overcoat.”_

He knew deep down that Five was right, that it wasn't helping, but it still felt necessary. Every layer covering his body kept the beast that he called his own torso at bay. Any of the coarse hair that poked through the first layer suffered intervention from the second layer. No one needed to see this, no one wanted to see this. Diego had said it himself, their own father couldn't stand the sight of him. Was he so hideous that he had to be sent away? Away from his home and his mother and his siblings and his planet. The planet didn't want him, didn't need him, deserved better than him. The moon deserved better too, but at least no one was forced to see him up there. Him, the failed leader of The Umbrella Academy. Luther had failed at a lot of things over the years. He was a failure of a leader, a failure of a son, a failure of a hero, and a failure of a brother. 

He pulled a jacket over his sweater and moved briskly away from his mirror. He couldn't stand to look anymore. When a knock sounded at the door, he ignored it. The person knocked again.

”GO AWAY!” He shouted across the room. 

”OPEN THE STUPID DOOR!” Diego yelled back. Luther rolled his eyes but crossed the room to open the door. Every heavy footstep made him cringe. 

As soon as he turned the handle, his brother shoved his way into the room. Luther shut the door behind him and crossed his arms. 

”What do you want? And have you been crying?”

”No. I didn't know you could write.”

”We learned together. We had a bet and everything.” He said with a raised eyebrow. 

”No, dumbass. I mean actual writing. Like, books and shit.”

”Well I don't.” He retorted. “Not really. I just write out my feelings and stuff, you know, like normal people do.”

“I don’t.”

“I said, normal people.”

”Oooh, look who finally learned how to clap back! Took you long enough.” Diego dropped onto a chair and slumped down. ”So, what do you write about?” 

”You're gonna get a sore back-”

”Uh- no changing the subject, big boy. What do you write about.”

”That's personal, and why do you even want to know? As a matter of fact, how did you know that I write at all?” 

”I have my ways.” 

This tactic clearly wasn't working. Diego didn't know what he was thinking, it never worked. Being brash and trying to break down Luther’s walls from the outside usually ended with a fight. What did work was carefully encouraging him to lower them himself. How do you go about that? Bring up something he’s passionate about.

“So, what’s it like? On the moon.”

Luther raised an eyebrow at that. So much for a smooth segway.

“Why do you want to know all of the sudden?”

“I’m curious. Not every person has a brother who’s been to space, might as well make the most of it. So, give me a science lesson.”

The doubt in Luther’s eyes faded into unbridled excitement.

_Fucking nerd._

He let him prattle on about moon rocks and gravity levels for a while. It was kind of interesting, but after twenty minutes, he figured he should get what he came here for. 

“What was it like? Being alone up there.”

That seemed to stop Luther in his tracks. Diego hated to see his excitement fade away. That was probably the happiest he had seen his brother since they were children. 

“It was… I don’t know. It was lonely. I couldn’t do much, not that that means much, I didn’t want to leave my bed most of the time. I was just… tired.”

Diego struggles to digest that. It just brought back the same guilt he had felt when reading those poems. 

Now, Diego had gone to the police academy. One thing that he was taught was what happened to prisoners put in complete isolation. How long did it take for them to start hallucinating again? A few weeks? 

“Have you talked to Five about the effects of isolation?”

“Yeah, why?”

“It fucks you up, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So how are you holding yourself together? I mean, Five married a fucking manaquin! Do I have any other in-laws that I need to know about?”

Luther huffed out a laugh. “No, but I had a plant.”

“I’m sorry, you had a plant?”

“Yeah. I named him after Ben.”

Diego smiles a bit at that. _That’s fucking adorable. Gotta tell Klaus about that one._

“Look, I’m gonna come clean. I went through those packages you sent home, and I don’t think I could deal if you still feel the way you did in those messages and you didn’t tell any of us about it.”

“Oh.” His face was completely blank. His hands seemed to instinctively latch onto his upper arms. “You shouldn’t have read those.”

“Why? Because it’s embarrassing? Because news flash! I don’t give a shit!”

“Because it was personal, Diego! It was my stuff and maybe I didn’t want you reading it!”

Diego put his hands up in surrender. 

“Alright fine. Maybe I shouldn’t have gone through your shit, but I did. And I don’t want to have to deal with you fucking bleeding out on the bathroom floor because you’re too fucking closed off. Let. Us. Help. You.” 

Luther squared his shoulders and tried to look intimidating. It was his, _“I’m Number One and you have to listen to me.”_ Pose, though at this point it was probably a subconscious reaction. It didn’t work on Diego anymore. 

“You should go.”

“Not this time. I’m not going to leave until we sort this out like a functional family, because that’s what we’re trying to be, right?” 

Luther stared down at his feet with a frown and clenched his fists. 

“Yeah, fine.”

Diego stood up and stepped in front of his brother.

“Okay. How’re you holding up?”

Luther started playing with the fringed ends of his fingerless gloves. 

“Um… Not great, I guess. Living like this,” he gestured widely at his torso, “Is hard. At first, I tried to-“ he inhaled sharply. Diego stared expectantly. 

The taller man sighed and pulled up his sweater a bit.

“I’m sure that you saw it when… when that chandelier fell on me, but um…” 

Diego’s face contorted. Luther’s skin is covered with scar tissue in the shape of…

“You… you tried to rip your fucking skin off?”

Luther tried to quell the overwhelming emotions that weighed on his chest. It was easier to push it down, to not show weakness. Dad would- dad isn’t here.

“I did.”

Diego looked closer.

“That one doesn’t look old.” He said flatly. Luther dropped his sweater and wrapped his arms around his ribs protectively. 

“This is a problem brother.”

“I know.”

Diego sighed deeply.

“You wanna talk about anything else?”

They sat down as Luther struggled to voice his thoughts. 

“I just wanted him to be proud of me.”

“I know.” _I did too._

“Nothing worked. I tried so hard to be perfect, but I couldn’t. I failed. And after the accident… I felt aimless. I didn’t know what to do with myself. Then dad sent me up to the moon. I felt like I had a purpose again. Like I was doing something important. But it meant nothing, and then I was lost again.”

Luther’s fingernails dug into his thighs. He was holding back. 

_Can’t do much about that, though._

“Yeah well, Dad sucked. He was an asshole, and you didn’t deserve that.” Diego said, uncharacteristically soft. Luther smiled a bit.

“Whatever you say.”

“Yeah, whatever I say. You better damn well believe me. Dad was an abusive piece of shit, and he didn’t deserve any of us.”

“Okay.”

Diego clapped his hand onto Luther’s knee, then stood up and walked to the door.

“Get some sleep, brother. We can pick this up again later if you want.”

“Okay. Goodnight.” 

“Goodnight.”

Diego shut the door behind him and wandered down the hallway. He collapsed into his bed. He had a lot to think about. Like how out of character that entire conversation was. Neither him nor Luther were the touchy-feely type, but he had just listened to him spill his soul for approximately… forty-five minutes. 

They did stuff like that when they were kids. They were best friends. Maybe he made the right choice, bringing this stuff up. The idea of repairing their relationship felt… good.

_And who’d have thunk that that was all because of a little snooping?_


End file.
